


Forever Dispossessed

by Khylaren



Category: Lord of the Rings - Fandom, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M, The Silmarillion References
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:21:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28825875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khylaren/pseuds/Khylaren
Summary: Celegorm, long thought slain by Dior in the halls of Menegroth, flees across Arda in search of safety. Something is hunting him relentlessly, dogging his every footstep. Upon reaching the Northern Borders of Lothlorien, he is captured by the Galadhrim. Haldir escorts the mysterious elf to see the Lord and Lady and let them decide his fate. Little does he know that his own fate will be tied with this mysterious elf’s, for he will stay by his side until the end.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jaiden_S](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaiden_S/gifts).



> A gift for Jaiden, a story with Haldir/Celgorm using the following three words: shiny, dangerous, and wicked.
> 
> This story was definitely a challenge for me as Celegorm is, historically, canonically, a big asshole who made poor life choices. Trying to write him as a sympathetic character was daunting but hopefully I managed it.

The sentry’s whistle alerted him long before Haldir saw his brother racing nimbly toward him, leaping from tree to tree, his urgency apparent as he eschewed more traditional methods to reach his Captain and oldest brother. 

Haldir stood up from where he’d been sitting and eating his late evening meal and waited patiently for Rumil to arrive. 

“Haldir!” 

His youngest brother came to a stop, gulping for air and quickly saluted him.

“Take a moment,” Haldir said, frowning. Rumil must have important news indeed if he’d run himself this ragged to reach him. “A minute or two more won’t make any difference.”

Rumil shook his head and pressed his hands against his thighs, struggling to slow his breath. He ignored Haldir’s advice and pressed on.

“A cloaked stranger has crossed the boundaries from the north,” he managed. “He slipped past the first sentries and was not spotted until he crossed the river.”

Haldir immediately stiffened.

“How is that possible?” he demanded. He turned and reached for his sword, strapping it to his waist. His quiver and bow came next. “Nevermind. Where is this intruder now?”

Rumil gulped a deep breath and turned, gesturing for his brother to follow.

“The wardens caught him after he crossed the river and surrounded him. Brother, he fought…” Rumil coughed and winced in pain before continuing. “He fought like...I’ve never seen anything like it. Like our Lord Celeborn.”

Haldir knew he meant like one of the old ones, such as their lord and lady.

“Did you see his face?”

They were traveling swiftly across the trees but not so swiftly they couldn’t speak. Though Rumil was young and strong, his endurance was not endless and he’d already made the journey once. 

“No. He keeps it cloaked and covered,” Rumil said. “When I left to get the message to you, they were still fighting. The other wardens are hesitant to harm him, waiting for your counsel since he seems…”

Rumil coughed again and stopped, wrapping his hand around his middle. 

Haldir immediately stopped as well.

“Bother, are you injured?”

“I was hit by the butt of his sword,” he replied, wincing. “He got me well and good across the ribs.”

Haldir immediately pushed his brother’s hands aside and lifted the edge of his tunic, pushing it up so he could see. He hissed softly at the dark red patch spreading across his brother’s rib cage. It looked painful and was certainly going to be a colorful bruise.

“They sent me because I’m still the fastest even if injured,” Rumil said with a small touch of pride. “So is this intruder...he fights as well, but he has not mortally wounded any of us. It is almost as if he is reluctant to cause harm, and his skill is such that he can defend himself without killing.”

“Truly?” Haldir mentally catalogued the elves he knew that currently still dwelled in Arda who might be capable of such a feat. The number was not high. Troubled, he turned to his brother.

“You should not be running with bruised ribs,” he admonished sternly. “Nor should you be leaping about. Rest here for a bit, then go see the healers.” He let Rumil’s tunic fall back down into place. “I can find them well enough from here.”

For certain, he knew there were wardens standing sentry between here and there. They would have no trouble pointing Haldir in the right direction.

He held up a hand to forestall the protests he knew were coming. 

“That is an order from your Captain,” he stated. Then his expression softened. “Do not make me send for Orophin to haul you back. You know how he loves to hover and fuss.”

Rumil made a face, appreciating Haldir’s attempts at lightening the situation, and nodded.

“Yes, my Captain,” he said, smiling ruefully. “Be careful.”

As expected, it was not at all difficult to find where his wardens had cornered the intruder. As he drew closer, he could hear the sounds of fighting, the clash of swords and the soft grunts and cries of pain. 

Haldir hurried, leaping down from the ladder and rolling to his feet, coming to a stop on the outer edge of the circle. He immediately drew his bow and aimed it at the tall, cloaked figure in the middle who was currently crossing swords with Aldondir. There was blood dripping from a cut down the side of Aldondir’s face, and Haldir winced to see it. 

A quick glance around the circle of six wardens showed they each carried one injury or another, none fatal, however. 

The two elves in the center looked ready to go for another round when Haldir stepped to the edge of the circle, his aim steady and true on the intruder.

“Hold!” he shouted. “Drop your weapon and stand down.”

The figure in the center turned his hooded gaze towards Haldir, his body stiffening in alarm for a moment, before his shoulders slumped. He did not drop the sword, however, but sheathed it.

Aldondir stepped back as well but did not lower his sword. The other sentries kept their guard up, not trusting this stranger who had so handily defeated each of them in combat. 

Haldir did not drop his aim. 

“Calardan, please relieve our guest of his weapon.”

The elf he named sheathed his own sword and stepped into the circle, approaching the cloaked stranger carefully. 

“Be still,” Haldir warned him as Calardan came close. “My aim is true and shall not waver.”

The stranger bowed his hooded head and reached for the buckle holding his sword belt. Without looking up, he handed it to Calardan, who took it and backed away. 

“Is that your only weapon? Do you carry others concealed about your person?” Haldir demanded. 

The figure stiffened and his head lifted. 

“What kind of person do you take me for, that I would be so wicked as to carry weapons in such a hidden fashion. I am not an assassin!”

Haldir’s eyebrows lifted in surprise.

“It speaks,” he said, his voice sharp. “Does it have a name?”

The stranger lifted one hand and pushed his hood back, Long silver hair, the color of moonlight and mithril, cascaded down his back in a shimmering curtain, revealing a fair face and delicately pointed ears. A pair of pale, blue eyes regarded Haldir without warmth or trust and his face was cold and arrogant.

“My name is not for you. Bring me to Artanis. Bring me to the daughter of Finarfin.”

Haldir shook his head. Rumil’s suspicions about the age of their uninvited guest grew more merit at his choices for naming the Lady of Lorien. 

“My lady Galadriel does not meet with cloaked strangers who sneak across our borders like thieves in the night, instead of declaring themselves openly, especially ones who will not reveal their name,” Haldir replied coolly, for any elf on an honest mission to their realm would not have hidden behind a cloak nor crept stealthily across the borders into their lands. “I have nothing but your word that you mean no harm, and that means very little at this moment.”

The other elf’s eyes narrowed and his chin lifted, lips pressed together in a thin line.

“Very well,” Haldir said finally, when it was apparent that the elf would not answer further. “I shall call you Anginnas, for you are more stubborn than a dwarf. Bind him.”

Haldir continued to aim at the other as his wardens surrounded the elf and tied his hands behind his back. Only then did Haldir put down his bow. 

Calardan approached him and offered him the intruder's weapon. He accepted the sword belt from Calardan with a brief nod of thanks before he unsheathed it and examined the blade closely. It was well made, the steel bright, and at a glance Haldir knew the blade was older than he was. 

With one last look at the shiny blade, he sheathed the sword and slung the belt over his shoulder.

He was at a loss what to do. He did not know this elf, and his recalcitrance to reveal his name or his purpose did not go far in convincing Haldir he should grant his request and bring him before his Lady. 

He also did not feel safe in taking him back to the borders and letting him go. Anginnas had already proven himself crafty and wise enough to fool his sentinels once before. Perhaps it had only been luck that the elf had been caught at all before reaching Caras Galadhon. Releasing him was not a risk he felt comfortable in making. 

Finally, he could not and would not kill the intruder out of hand. Despite his stealth and questionable motives, the other elf had done nothing to warrant his death. 

He eyed his prisoner, frowning and feeling a headache forming between his brows. 

“It seems you will have your wish regardless,” he said finally. “I will take you to my Lord and Lady and they shall determine what to do with you.” He gestured to the warden standing closest. 

Bound or not, the bow Anginnas gave him was both graceful and mocking, so it gave Haldir no small bit of uncharitable pleasure to watch his aloof expression fall when he told his sentinels to blindfold him.

To his credit, however, Anginnas did not protest. He merely set his lips again and submitted. 

Haldir took the end of the rope from Calardan and gave it a tug.

“Do not fear to trip or fall,” he said as he began to lead the other through paths only the wardens of the wood knew. “I will guide you on clear paths and keep your steps safe.”

He did not expect the other elf to reply, so he was not disappointed when only silence met his back. 

His wardens faded into the trees around them, most returning to their usual posts, the others following their progress from the trees. They would pass their watch off to the next set of sentinels once Haldir and his prisoner reached them.

They walked in silence, Haldir mindful of any obstacles in the path that might pose trouble for Anginnas as well as keeping himself alert for any trouble. Since he was getting what he wanted, Haldir doubted the other elf would cause a fuss or try to escape, but it would not do to let his guard down. 

When it seemed like the entire journey to Caras Galadhon would be done in silence, the elf behind him finally broke it.

“What are you called?”

Haldir glanced back over his shoulder. His prisoner was walking behind him with graceful assurance, as if his eyes were not covered and his head held low. 

“I am Haldir, Marchwarden of the Northern Fences and Captain of the Galadhrim,” he answered quietly. 

“Haldir,” the other elf repeated, as if tasting the name. His lips twisted and his tone became mocking. “The ‘hidden hero’ in your tongue. Are you a hero? Are you selfless and brave? Noble and trustworthy?”

Haldir didn’t bother looking back this time but continued onward. They would not reach the city before nightfall, but there was a spot nearby where they could rest a while. 

“Brave enough, though I am no noble. My lord and lady trust me to keep their borders safe, and that is enough.”

“So calm. Are you always this polite to prisoners?” 

“Yes, unless they give me reason to treat them otherwise.” 

His answers seemed to displease the other elf for some reason. Anginnas kicked out with one foot, scuffing the earth in annoyance, and nearly lost his balance in the process. Haldir put a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

“Watch yourself,” he cautioned, before leading them onward again.

Anginnas fell silent once more, and Haldir was left to puzzle over the other elf’s behavior. The more he puzzled, the more confused he became, which irritated him.

“Who are you?” Haldir broke the silence. “You are no Sindar or Sylvan elf, but one of the Noldor by my best guess. You are old enough to call my lady by a name she has not answered to in over an age, yet I cannot guess who you are. So many of the Eldar no longer walk these lands but have either perished or sailed westward to Aman. The number of those left behind who have seen the light of the two trees has dwindled enough that I am familiar with the names and countenances of most of them.”

He came to a stop and turned to his prisoner. He crossed the space that separated them in two strides and pulled the blindfold from his face.

“Who are you?” he asked again. “And for what reason do you creep into our lands like a thief? You claim you are no assassin. Speak up.”

Anginnas blinked at him a moment as his eyes adjusted, before he straightened up and frowned at Haldir. The aloof, defensive sneer had returned. 

“Even if I told you my name, it is doubtful you would believe it.”

Haldir lifted an eyebrow and waited patiently. 

“As for my reason for coming…” Here the other elf’s countenance faltered, the expression becoming shuttered, the arrogance fleeing. “I am hunted and did not wish to announce my presence lest I alert my foe. I knew once I crossed the river I would be safe for the time being.”

Haldir did not think the elf was lying, but neither was he being completely honest. 

“Tell me your name,” he asked again. “You are correct in that you are mostly safe here. The borders, as you saw, are well protected and my Lady’s magic keeps most evil away. There is little harm in telling me who you are now. Unless you wish for me to continue to call you Anginnas?” 

“That will do well enough as any name,” Anginnas replied with sudden weariness. “For stubborn I am, and I will not speak my true name to anyone but Artanis.”

Haldir sighed. He supposed it did not matter. The truth would come out once the elf stood before his Lady Galadriel. No one could withstand her magic. 

“Very well. I must blindfold you again.”

He approached Anginnas and the other elf closed his eyes, holding still as Haldir tied the blindfold, mindful not to catch any of his fine, silver hair in the cloth. Gathering the rope in his hands once more, he gave it a light tug. 

“Come, then. We have some journeying ahead of us yet.”

They continued onward and silence stayed between them until they reached the palace where Haldir wished to rest for the evening. He gave a sharp whistle, and moments later, a rope ladder came rolling down from the talan above them. 

He turned to Anginnas and untied his hands, placing them on the rungs of the ladder in front of him.

“Climb.”

“You trust me not to attack you or flee?” the elf asked. 

“You would not get far,” Haldir said simply. “My wardens patrol these woods, as we are not far from the mines of Moria. Orcs dwell there, and trolls too. They sometimes grow bold and attack our borders.”

He gave Anginnas a gentle push towards the ladder again and this time the other elf climbed it. Blindfolded as he was, his ascent was slow and careful and he stopped once he had climbed up onto the platform nestled in the tree. Haldir followed him quickly, and pulled the ladder up once he had reached the top.

The two wardens who had been standing watch on that particular talan bowed respectfully to their captain, before leaving to take up watch further away. Haldir turned to his guest and removed his blindfold, gesturing for him to take a seat.

He could feel Anginnas watching him as he set the Noldo’s sword belt down behind him and Haldir gave him a warning look.

“Do not be foolish,” he said. “Though you cannot see them, my wardens are all around. It would be pointless for you to try and escape. You would only be captured again.”

Anginnas gave him a brief nod. “I understand. Since you are taking me where I wish to go, it would be equally pointless for me to wish to.”

Haldir frowned, feeling his headache return. The other elf had a fair point, but Haldir was not ready to trust him yet. He could still picture the other elf fighting his wardens and the wounds they had taken from him. 

He reached into his tunic and took out a folded Mallorn leaf and set to unfolding it. Inside was a piece of lembas bread. He broke off a piece for himself before offering it to his companion.

A strange expression flew across his face before Anginnas took the bread, breaking off a piece as well. He handed the lembas back to Haldir and sat with his back against the trunk of the tree. 

“Thank you,” Anginnas said quietly. He turned the piece of lembas over with his fingers, his gaze fixed downard. 

Curious, Haldir tucked the lembas back in his tunic and reached for his waterskin. 

“Have you not had lembas before?”

The other elf lifted the piece to his mouth and ate it slowly, leaning his head back against the trunk and closing his eyes as he chewed. For the moment, he looked utterly lost, weary, and close to weeping.

Saying nothing, Haldir waited until he had swallowed before handing him the waterskin. He waited for the other elf to finish drinking before binding his hands once more.

“We will rest here for a few hours. My wardens will wake us when it is time.”

He settled next to Anginnas with his back against the trunk of the tree and wrapped his cloak around him snugly, finishing by pulling the hood up over his head. He felt the other elf do the same, shifting until their shoulders touched so that the heat of their bodies was shared to a small degree.

A low sigh escaped his companion.

“Yes,” Anginnas said softly. “I have had it before. Long, long ago.”

Haldir waited patiently.

“I have not tasted it since I left Aman. The gift of making lembas was given to King Thingol’s wife, Melian, but my brother and I were not welcome in Doriath and no one in Nargothrond had the skill to make it.”

One of his shoulders rose and fell and a bitter chuckle escaped him.

“And now it seems Artanis has the making of it. That seems fair, as she was the fairest of all the Eldar and she was close to Thingol’s wife.”

A cold feeling gripped Haldir’s stomach, making him uneasy. 

“Who are you?” he asked. He had lost track of how many times he had asked the question. He had no actual hope that his companion would answer this time any different than he had before. 

But Anginnas surprised him. 

“My father called me Turcafinwë, my mother Tyelkormo. Artanis called me cousin, once upon a time, and loved me and my brothers well. Before it all went wrong…”

Haldir was speechless. 

His companion turned to him and gave him a smile that was both beautiful and so full of sadness it was painful to behold.

“You are thinking, how can this be so? For all of the House of Fëanor are gone.”

Haldir nodded slowly. “So I have been taught. Are you saying this is not so?”

“When Dior slew my brothers, I attacked him without mercy, determined to avenge them or die trying. He gave me a blow with his sword that nearly killed me, and left me to die of my wounds. I should have died, but for the grace of the Valar, I did not. Instead, I left my sword and heraldry on the body of a silver-haired elf and fled.”

Haldir sucked in a sharp breath and frowned. If this elf’s words were true...but how could they be so? Everyone knew that Celegorm, Curufin, and Caranthir had perished at the Sack of Menegroth. It was impossible that the elf sitting next to him could be one of those three.

He cleared his throat and gestured for Anginnas to continue. 

“Somehow I escaped the fighting and the slaughter. I found an empty cave and collapsed. When I woke again, my wounds were healed, though I do not know how. For whatever reason I was spared. In return I renounced my name and forsook my oath, though it will damn me. Nevermore would I be Celegorm, son of Fëanor, brother and kinslayer. I would remain nameless and wander until I had atoned for my sins and then, if the Valar are kind, I will die and face my judgement.”

Haldir’s eyebrows flew up and he looked at the other elf with patent disbelief. The story was preposterous. It simply could not be true.

“So, you have been hiding, after all these many years?” Haldir did not bother to hide his skepticism. 

Anginnas, no, Celegorm, smiled mockingly. 

“I told you that you would not believe me if I told you the truth,” he said. 

“Then why did you?” Haldir challenged. “You seemed reluctant enough earlier. Why now?”

But Celegorm was turning away and tucking his chin to his chest, apparently done with speaking for now.

WIth a scowl, Haldir leaned back against the tree and crossed his arms over his chest. 

“I do not know.”

Haldir did not move, but once again waited patiently, wondering if this was all Celegorm would give him or if more explanation was forthcoming. 

“The lembas...it reminded me. Of before. And the truth would have come out anyway. Artanis will recognize me. There is no hiding who I am.”

Haldir had no doubt that she would. 

“Why have you sought her out, then?” he asked, then remembered what Celegorm had said earlier. “What is hunting you?”

Celegorm was silent for so long, Haldir thought he would not answer.

“I do not know, but no matter where I flee, it always finds me.”

The late hours passed with neither of them sleeping, yet no matter how patient or persistant Haldir was, Celegorm would not say any more.


	2. Chapter 2

Haldir heard the horns mere moments before one of his wardens leapt onto the platform to wake him. He was already up and strapping on his weapons when Calardan made his salute.

“Orcs from Moira, testing the borders again,” Calardan reported. He was winded and he had to pause to catch his breath. “They’ve captured two of our wardens. One of them...one of them was Dravron.”

Davron was one of their newest recruits, barely old enough to have joined the wardens, and Rumil’s mate. 

“The other?” 

“Pelilas.” Calardan’s face was pale. “She went after Davron and was captured herself.

Haldir cursed softly and reached for his bow. He cast a glance at Celegorm. The Noldo had already risen to his feet, graceful, despite his bound hands.

“Take me with you.”

Calardan’s eyebrows rose and he glanced at his Captain questioningly. 

Celegorm moved closer, his pale eyes fixed on Haldir’s as he gazed at him in entreaty.

“You already know I can fight. Let me help kill orcs and rescue your folk.” His fair face twisted. “I would rather die than leave any elf in the hands of such creatures.”

Haldir searched Celegorm’s face. Duty told him that he should have Calardan continue to escort the prisoner to Caras Galadhon, but his instinct was telling him something else. Even knowing who he was - if Celegorm really was who he said he was - Haldir wanted to trust him. There was too much anguish in his expression for him to think his request was a trick, and there would be nothing gained that he could think of if it were - Celegorm wanted to reach Galadriel. He would not betray them else he forsake his goal.

Wordlessly, Haldir untied the ropes binding Celegorm’s hands before turning to pick up his sword and hand it to him.

“Stay close and follow my lead. You do not know these woods and it is easy to get lost in them.” Haldir said as Celegorm strapped his sword to his waist. “If you cannot keep up, stay where you are and someone will come back for you when the fight is done. I will not wait for you to catch up.”

Celegorm nodded. “I understand.”

Haldir gave him one long assessing look before returning the nod.

“Let us go.”

Calardan leapt from the talan to the forest floor below and Haldir followed. He did not look back to see if Celegorm had made the jump, but he heard the other elf’s soft grunt at the impact and the soft whisper of cloth as he ran on Haldir’s heels. 

Smoke tainted the air, growing thicker as they drew closer to the skirmish. The orcs had set fire to the forest in an attempt to rout the guardians who were shooting arrows at them from the safety of the trees. 

Horns sounded again as the sentries spotted Haldir to announce his coming. He hoped it would give his wardens courage. 

“The cowards are hiding in the smoke!” Calardan shouted back at them. 

Haldir could both hear and smell them, vile creatures they were, their cries taunting the elves hidden in the trees. He heard a scream of anguish from within the smoke and he doubled his pace. 

“Show them no mercy!” he cried, drawing his sword. “Slay them all!” Without hesitation, he leapt into the fight, Calardan and Celegorm on his heels.

Seeing their Captain charging into the depths of the smoke with his sword bravely drawn gave the Wardens courage to leave the trees and join the fray. They could only spare a moment’s thought about the bright stranger who followed close on their Captain’s heels, brandishing his own gleaming sword. 

Howls and cries of pain followed thereafter, and the stench of blood tainted the smoke. It was difficult to see but Haldir’s sword unerringly found its target, disemboweling or beheading every orc he crossed. He could hear the others behind him, their cries of fury and encouragement to their fellows urging them onward. 

Celegorn fought like a shadow beside him, his presence glowing like a beacon and drawing every orc to him like a moth to a flame. His sword never stilled, hewing a path of death and destruction wherever he went.

“Mind the fires!” Haldir shouted, hoping some of his Wardens would hear. “Put them out!”

They would be unable to find either of their missing Wardens in the thickness of the smoke. It would be easy for the orcs to retreat and carry their compatriots with them. 

The numbers of their foe were dwindling, fewer and fewer were charging at him or Celegorn, so Haldir charged on ahead through the smoke, desperate to find his missing Wardens. 

A crude axe came swinging out of nowhere through the dense smoke and Haldir had no time to dodge or block. It struck another sword, however, the sound ringing across the field of battle like a clarion, and Haldir looked up to see Celegorm looming over him, his sword blocking the blow that would have ended his life. With a grunt the Noldo shoved the orc back, kicking it with a boot to its chest, and finished it with a slice across its middle that spilled its organs onto the muddy ground. 

Haldir gasped softly. 

“Mud.” 

He could see the ground, which meant the smoke was clearing. His gaze lifted and searched across the field, noting his Wardens dispatching the last few remaining orcs who fought with desperation. In the distance, a small pack fled back towards Moria from whence they had come.

He threw a glance at Celegorm and the Noldo nodded, having seen what Haldir had spotted; the orcs dragging their elven captives away.

“Go!” urged Celegorm, and Haldir took off at a dead run, the other elf right on his heels.

Their pursuit was spotted almost immediately and the orcs increased their pace in an effort to reach the safety of the mines and more of their kin. Haldir knew if they reached Moria, the likelihood of saving his wardens was almost impossible. 

Still their chances were good at catching them. As a Sylvan elf and one of the Galadhrim, Haldir was swift and could run for miles. Surprisingly, Celegorm kept pace alongside him, his strides long and swift, his breathing quick but even. Both of them put on a burst of speed in response.

They closed the distance slowly but steadily. Haldir drew his bow and knocked an arrow, ready to fire it the moment he was in range. Behind them he could hear at least one other of his wardens keeping pace. A quick glance back showed it was Aldondir and Haldir spared a brief thought for Calardan, hoping the other elf was back with the others helping with the wounded.

The orcs were tiring, several lagging behind the rest, and Haldir and Aldondir began picking them off, firing arrow after arrow, with Celegorm finishing them off with his sword if the arrows did not do the trick. Still the orcs driving their captives remained just out of reach. 

“Haldir!” Aldondir cried sharply, then gave a burst of speed to catch up to his Captain. He thrust his bow at Celegorm, barely waiting long enough for the other elf to take it, before he linked his hands together.

At once Haldir saw what he was about. He put a hand to Aldondir’s shoulder and jumped up, putting his left foot in the step created by the other elf’s linked fingers. Aldondir gave a shout and heaved upward, using his strength and Haldir’s momentum to launch him into the air and forward. Haldir knocked an arrow and fired two arrows in succession before landing. 

The leaders of the orcs fell and their fellows stumbled across their bodies, slowing them. Aldondir had already taken his bow back from Celegorm and was knocking another arrow. 

Haldir landed behind Celegorm and Aldondir and once more raced towards his foe. He counted six orcs remaining and the mouth of Moria too far away for them to reach before they caught up with them. 

His last arrow did for one orc and Aldondir took the other. Four orcs left to run, abandoning their captives in the vain hope of reaching safety before the elves caught them or the sun rose. 

“Stay with them,” he ordered Aldondir, drawing his sword. The remaining four would not reach Moria if he could help it. He threw a glance at Celegorm who gave him a nod, his sides heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

“With me then,” Haldir said, and tore away after the last of the orcs who had dared to breach the borders of Lorien, Celegorm pounding along at his heels. 

They caught the creatures at the rocky outcropping just outside the entrance. Haldir beheaded the first one and before it had even fallen to the ground he’d turned to attack the second. Celegorm had cut the legs off of the orc nearest to him and leapt after the last one, shoving his greatsword through the creature’s back and riding its body down to the ground. 

Haldir drove his own sword through his orc’s chest and shoved its body away to fall next to the other that was missing its legs. He pointed his sword beneath the orc’s chin while it cowered and blubbered and spat, its black eyes wide with hate and fury.  
He felt Celegorm come up behind him and saw the orc’s expression of hatred change to twist in pure terror. It used its arms to try to drag itself away, leaving trails of black ichor from its stumps of legs, desperate to get away. 

“The light...the light…” it whimpered before Haldir ended its life by removing its ugly head. 

With a noise of disgust, he wiped his sword clean against the rag-clad body of the dead orc and sheathed it. His heart still hammered and his blood sang with the fury of battle. Experience told him it would be a while before it abated. 

He spared a glance at Celegorm and saw the other elf was looking at him as well. There was no trace of the arrogance he’d worn before. Instead, Haldir saw a trace of curiosity and respect in his pale blue eyes. 

“Thank you,” Haldir said, before turning on his heel and heading back to where Aldondir, Pelilas and Davron were. “I am not certain we would have been able to rescue them without your help.”

He stole another glance at his companion. The other elf had committed himself admirably by keeping up with him. Haldir was wordlessly impressed. 

Celegorm nodded. “I despise those creatures, all the servants of darkness are my enemy and I will gladly kill them when I can.” He returned Hadir’s look. “Does this happen frequently?”

“The forays against the border, yes. This is the first time in a good while they have attempted to take captives,” Haldir replied. 

They stopped when they reached his wardens and he was relieved to see that barring a few scratches and bruises, neither seemed to be permanently harmed. 

Haldir clasped arms with both Davron and Pelilas and sent a prayer of thanks to the Valar. 

“Come,” he said. “Let us return to rest and tally our losses. I will carry the report with me to our Lord and Lady and tell them how the Wardens of the Northern Fences prevailed against their foe.”


	3. Chapter 3

“The wounded have been treated and sent to the outpost to rest,” Aldondir reported quietly as Haldir took notes. A forgotten plate of fruit, cheese and bread sat on the platform beside his knee. “I included Davron and Pelilas with them as they need time to recover from their ordeal. Elbereth be praised the orcs did not have any time with them.”

“A good choice,” Haldir replied. He was relieved that both his newest wardens had escaped relatively unscathed. “How many were lost?”

Aldondir bowed his head. “Only three. They were trapped by the fire and could not escape.”

Haldir bowed his head as well and murmured a soft prayer. He was thankful only a few were lost, but sorrowed at the loss of life. He added the names of the fallen to his report before rolling the parchment up and placing it in his tunic. 

“You should eat,” Aldondir scolded, and set a full waterskin next to Haldir’s plate. “And rest. I have doubled the watch, but it is doubtful the orcs will try again so quickly after being soundly defeated.”

Haldir gave Aldondir a brief smile and nodded. The other elf gave him a bow and salute before leaving him and Celegorm alone on the talan. Celegorm sat with his back against the trunk of the tree and was eating his own meal. His sword lay at his side. 

“You are not what I expected you to be,” Haldir said. He rose to his feet and carried his plate and water over to sit down beside Celegorm. “Knowing your history.”

Celegorm’s lips twisted into a parody of a smile. 

“No horns, no red eyes, no cruel countenance proclaiming for the world to see what a monster I am?” His tone was gently mocking. “I am still the son of Feanor and a kinslayer. No matter how many lives I save, it is not enough to make up for the ones I took.”

“I did not expect you to help,” Haldir replied bluntly. “My people are not your people. Why would you make any effort and risk your own skin for them?”

Celegorm ate the last few berries off his plate and reached for the waterskin, taking a few deep swallows before setting it back down between them.

“Why did I help?” he repeated. “I told you why. I hate all the creatures of darkness, the servants of Morgoth and his pets. If not for Morgoth, my father would never have left Aman, chasing after that which was stolen. My brothers and I would never have made the oath that damned us all. “ His eyes flashed angrily, but his anger was not at Haldir. “I am the last of my father’s sons and I live only to destroy that which serves the darkness”

Haldir tore a bite from his bread and ate it methodically, swallowing it without tasting it. He reached for the waterskin.

“I see,” he said finally. It was difficult to reconcile the brave and noble-seeming elf next to him with the history he knew. “And my wardens? Earlier?” He raised an eyebrow meaningfully. “You could have killed them all easily and continued onward.”

Celegorm set his empty plate aside and turned to Haldir.

“I could have,” he agreed. “Though I would have been forced to fight for every step of the way through these woods to reach Artanis. It certainly would not have endeared my cause to her, if I had.”

Haldir watched a play of emotions war across Celegorm’s fair face before the other sighed deeply.

“When I woke after Menegroth, alive and healed, I made another oath.” He turned his bitter smile towards Haldir. “I swore never again, not even in the face of my own death, to kill another of my kindred. It does not...atone, for the deaths I am responsible for, but neither does it add to the burden I carry.”

Celegorm tipped his head back and closed his eyes, suddenly weary.

“One day I will face the judgement in the halls of Mandos. I expect my fëa will remain there for a long time, possibly for all time. I cannot undo my mistakes, but I can keep from repeating them, so when I stand before Námo to be judged, perhaps he will look more kindly upon me.”

A single tear fell from behind his closed eyes and Haldir was moved, reaching out with his finger to capture it upon its tip. He looked at it a moment, before he realized that Celeborm’s eyes had opened and the other elf was gazing at him. 

Unexpected embarrassment flooded Haldir and he turned away, resting his own head against the tree and closing his eyes to hide his confusion. A moment later, Celegorm shifted beside him, and he felt the press of the other elf’s leg against his own. 

“Rest,” Haldir said quietly. 

“How long must we travel?” Celegorm asked, his voice equally soft.

Haldir did not open his eyes. “Two or three more days, at the most. It depends upon how quickly you can travel while blindfolded.”

A sigh escaped the Noldo. 

“Must I be blindfolded the entire journey?” 

“Yes. The way to Caras Galadhon is a secret known only by the Galadhrim and those they trust,” Haldir replied. “Though you are a cousin to my Lady, I cannot break this rule.”

With his eyes closed, he could not see Celegorm’s expression, but it seemed he could almost feel the other elf’s amusement. 

“Very well. You seem a noble enough fellow. I trust you not to lead me astray.”

“I have given my word. I will keep you safe,” Haldir replied, confused by Celegorm’s change of mood. “Now rest. We will be leaving at sunrise.” 

~ * ~

Haldir was actually awake before the sun crept up over the horizon, though he was not yet fully alert, his mind still in the half-drowsing, half-dreaming state of reverie. Birdsong gradually filtered its way into his brain as well as the gradual awareness that his companion had fallen asleep and was now resting fully against Haldir’s side, his head leaning on Haldir’s shoulder. 

He cracked one eye open to look.

In slumber, Celegorm’s fair face was softer, the stern set of his mouth relaxed into a soft curve, the lines between his silver brows smoothed away. Despite this, the elf still carried an air of weariness about him that was impossible to miss. There were dark shadows beneath his eyelashes that spoke of a long journey without much rest. It made Haldir reluctant to wake him. 

He took advantage of the opportunity to really look at his prisoner - for prisoner he still was until his Lord or Lady spoke otherwise. The clothes beneath his cloak were well made but of simple material. Haldir wondered if the Noldo had made them himself or if they were made for him, for they fit well. 

Many questions passed through his mind; how had Celegorm gotten to the borders of Lorien? Where had he been prior to that? Was he alone or were others caring for him? What kind of terror could be hunting him and causing him to flee rather than to face it? It must be frightful indeed, for the Noldo was a fierce and experienced warrior. This worried Haldir, despite Celegorm’s words that it could not cross the river. He would have patrols along the northern border doubled, just in case. 

The subject of his racing thoughts was beginning to stir and Haldir’s expression settled, his face falling into a more typical serious expression. Patiently he waited for Celegorm to realize he had been using Haldir’s shoulder as his pillow and move away. 

The Noldo’s eyes fluttered open and he stared unseeing at Haldir’s face a moment before he murmured a soft apology and straightened.

“I was more weary than I realized,” Celegorm said. “Forgive my familiarity.”

Haldir nodded and rose to his feet. The morning air felt bitingly cold against the spot where Celegorm had pressed against him. “We both needed the rest.” 

Aldondir had left them both a bowl of cooked grains and berries mixed with honey. A freshly filled waterskin sat next to them. He handed the one to Celegorm and picked up the other. 

They ate in silence, each casting the occasional glance at the other, though Celegorm’s attention was often distracted by the sound of birds. On one occasion, he smiled, as if listening to something amusing.

Haldir finally had to ask, “What are you hearing that I am not?”

The Noldo’s gaze fell on him and he smiled. “Birds are great gossips,” he said. “When they are not courting or fighting over territory, they love to spread the word of what they see.”

“Oh?” Haldir’s eyebrows rose to his hairline. “You understand the speech of birds?”

Celegorm nodded and returned to his breakfast. “I understand the speech of many birds and beasts. It has saved my life more than once.”

Haldir knew there were Noldo who carried such gifts from the Valar; Gildor Inglorion, one of the far ranging and wandering exiles, was one. 

“And what do these birds have to say this morning?” Haldir asked, scraping the last bit of grains from his bowl. The sweet honey made them stick to his wooden spoon, so he licked it clean.

Celegorm coughed and looked away, though his smile did not fade. 

“Two of your wardens are trysting by the banks of the stream,” he said. “Another is heading towards this tree and carrying a small bird used for messages. Three others are eating, one is still asleep, and still another is relieving himself behind a tree.” He finally turned back to look at Haldir. “They truly do gossip about everything they see.”

“Apparently.” 

None of the news startled him, except that one of his wardens was coming with a messenger bird. When Calardan came up the ladder with the bird beneath his arm, Haldir had finished eating and was waiting for him.

“I thought you might want to message ahead,” the other warden said, his gaze flicking curiously over to Celegorm. The Noldo had also finished eating and was drinking from the waterskin. 

Haldir nodded. “That is a good idea. Give me a moment.”

He wrote a short message to his Lord and Lady telling them to expect him within three days and that he was bringing Galadriel’s cousin with him. He hated that he had no room for explanation, but could only keep the message short and simple for the bird to carry. 

“There,” he said, handing it to Calardan. “Let Aldondir know we will be leaving soon and he is to double the watches on the borders until I return. Something may be following our...guest.”

After the events of the evening prior, Haldir no longer felt right referring to Celegorm as their prisoner. 

“What is it we should be watching for?” Calardan asked.

“A shadow,” Celegorm said, interrupting them. “It appears as a shadow and leaves only death in its wake. If it comes, run. Do not try to fight it, for weapons are useless against it. Stay on this side of the river. There is magic in the waters it cannot cross.”

Haldir grunted softly. “The Nimrodel and the Celebrant both have protections and healing in their waters.” He looked at Celegorm. “You can tell us nothing else of this shadow?”

Celegorm shook his head. “I cannot face it. I can only run, and no matter how swift or how cleverly I hide my tracks, it always finds me. I fear that it will not give up, even if it cannot cross the river. It will find a way around.” 

“Very well.” Haldir turned back to Calardan. “Send the message and pass along the warning. If the shadow is spotted, do not engage it but alert our Lord and Lady.”

“I will,” Calardan replied, bowing his head slightly and bringing his hand to his heart. “Travel safe, Captain.” He turned to look at Celegorm. “You as well. Thank you for your assistance yesterday. We might not have saved our comrades without it.”

The Noldo inclined his head deeply. “I am truly sorry for the injury I caused you and your fellow wardens earlier. I was desperate.”

Haldir strapped his quiver across his back and picked up his bow. 

“If you are ready,” he said, gesturing towards the ladder, indicating that Celegorm should precede him. He nodded farewell to Calardan and followed him down to the forest floor. 

Once again Haldir tied the blindfold around Celegorm’s eyes, being mindful not to catch his silver hair in the knot. Next he took the other elf’s hand and placed it on his shoulder. 

A brief smile played about Celegorm’s lips, drawing Haldir’s gaze.

“You will not let me trip or fall?” he asked.

“I will not,” Haldir replied quietly. “You have my word.”

True to his word, Haldir led Celegorm carefully, avoiding fallen branches, underbrush, or anything else that might trip his companion. For the first part of their journey, neither spoke much beyond the occasional word of caution from Haldir or the request for water from Celegorm. Haldir was aware of his wardens shadowing them along parts of the journey, but they did not make themselves known or hinder their progress. 

Around midday they came to the first obstacle that Haldir feared could prove to be more challenging to a blindfolded elf. 

“A rope bridge?” Celegorm repeated. “How wide is the water?”

Haldir took advantage of the pause to take a drink of water. He swallowed and answered, “Too wide to jump, and the current much too strong. The Celebrant runs swift and deep and very cold here.”

Celegorm frowned. “You cannot remove my blindfold?”

“I dare not,” he said simply. “I am sorry. But I will guide you across. I have crossed this bridge many times and have never fallen. I will go slow and guide you the entire way.”

The rope bridge was precisely that: a piece of rope not quite as wide as Haldir’s hand. Made of hithlain, it stretched across the swiftly flowing river, anchored from one bank to the other. Any Galadhrim could run across it without fear of falling; there was little reason for him to believe he would not be able to guide Celegorm across it. 

He offered the waterskin to Celegorm and watched as the other elf drank deeply before holding it out for Haldir to take back.

“Are you ready?”

Celegorm nodded, so Haldir took his hand and placed it on his shoulder once more. 

Haldir did not have to think about how or where to place his feet, so he was able to watch Celegorm and guide him one step at a time. The other elf had great mastery over his sense of balance and seemed to adjust to the swaying movement of the rope beneath their feet. 

“I wish I could see,” Celegorm murmured, his voice almost lost to the rush of the water below their feet. “The river sounds wild.”

Haldir smiled though Celegorm could not see it. 

“It is bitter cold and rough this time of year,” he replied. “Mind your left foot. There.” Step by step they worked their way across the rope bridge until they had nearly reached the other side. Haldir had been confident in his ability to lead the other elf across without mishap, and with their goal so near, he stopped paying quite close enough attention to where his own feet landed. 

Time seemed to slow and leave him suspended with one foot on the bridge and the other hanging mid-air, before his center of gravity took hold and he tumbled from the bridge. Celegorm, his hand clutching Haldir’s shoulder like the lifeline it had been, followed him right after.

Ice cold water shoved and tumbled them both down the river, stealing Haldir’s breath and making his teeth chatter. He could not even manage a cry for help before the river was shoving him under once again. He quickly lost track of Celegorm and he spared a quick prayer that the other elf would be all right. He struggled against the swift current, trying vainly to reach the nearest bank as the river swept him along like a leaf. 

A whirlpool turned him and sucked him under before releasing him, sending him sputtering to the surface. Cold to the bone and disoriented, he could only let the river carry him along, no longer having the strength to strive towards the bank. Something dark and large loomed over the river just ahead, and hope gave Haldir strength to swim toward it. It was a fallen tree, no Mallorn but a beech, hanging low enough for him to possibly catch one of its branches and halt his tumbling progress. 

Kicking and fighting towards it, he managed to hook one arm around the closest branch and hold himself there. Behind him, bobbing in the water and heading for him at a rapid pace, was Celegorm. With only seconds to make the attempt before the other elf would be swept by him, Haldir stretched his other arm out as far as he could, sending a swift prayer to the Valar that the capricious current would push the Noldo within his reach. 

“Here!” he shouted, reaching with everything he had. 

The Valar must have been listening, for his fingers caught the hood of Celegorm’s cloak, and he was able to haul the other elf towards him to the relative safety of the fallen log. 

The Noldo was strangely limp and unresponsive, however, and one quick look revealed the reason: a dark bump on his forehead where his head had struck something unyielding. Haldir put his head close to Celegorm’s mouth but he could not tell if the other elf was breathing. 

Shifting his hold on Celegorm to get a firmer grip, Haldir used his other arm to pull them both along the length of the tree trunk towards the bank. The icy water pulled and shoved greedily at them both, as if reluctant to give them up, but slowly and steadily, Haldir made progress. Finally he reached the bank of the river, dragging them both up out of the water to collapse against the grass. 

Haldir shivered violently as he rolled over to check Celegorm. The other elf gave a soft groan and began to shiver as well. Haldir patted his cheeks gently, trying to wake him. 

“Come, come,” he said breathlessly. “Wake. We must find shelter and dry off. We cannot travel half-frozen and soaked to the one.”

He was worried about the bump on Celegorm’s head as well, but getting them warm and dry was important. Elves were somewhat resistant to cold, but they could still suffer from overexposure to it.

To his relief, Celegorm’s eyes fluttered open, and only then did Haldir realize the Noldo had lost the blindfold. 

“Address one issue at a time,” he muttered, reaching for Celegorm’s hands and pulling the elf to his feet.

“There is a place nearby we can shelter,” he told him. “Come. Lean on me.” He brought one of Celegorm’s arms around his shoulders and slid his own around the Noldo’s narrow waist, supporting him. 

The shelter was a bower made of thick and ancient tree roots and rock with a roof made of grass-covered sod that helped keep the space warm and snug. Rangers and Galadhrim both had used the space as temporary shelter, and there were still blankets wrapped in oilskin to keep them dry, kindling and tinder, as well as a few containers of water and dried grain. 

The two elves stumbled into the shelter together and Haldir wasted little time in getting a fire going. Once he was satisfied it had caught and was burning well, he found the blankets and an extra cloak and set them out for them to use. 

Celegorm was kneeling beside the fire, shivering hard enough Haldir could hear his teeth chatter. 

“Strip off your wet clothes and lay them over the root there,” he told him. “I have a blanket you can wrap yourself in why your clothes dry.” He was already beginning to strip his own clothing off, hanging his cloak and tunic from a large protruding root. Boots, stockings, breeches, and undergarments quickly followed. Haldir quickly wrapped a blanket around himself and offered the other to an equally naked Celegorm.

Dry for the moment, and gradually warming thanks to the fire, Haldir sat next to Celegorm and considered their situation. 

The river had carried them quite the distance but they were still within the borders of Lothlorien. Odds were good they would be found by the Wardens who watched the borders to the South or East. Even if they were not, rest and warmth would restore them enough to continue their journey to Caras Galadhon. The river had also taken Haldir’s bow and his arrows, but left him his sword and quiver. A quick glance at the pile of clothing hanging from the roots on the opposite side showed him that Celegorm had managed to keep his sword as well. 

“How do you feel?” he asked, turning to look at Celegorm. “Does your head hurt?”

Celegorm reached up and touched the bump on his brow, hissing softly at the contact. “A little.” The Noldo turned and gave him an appraising look, still managing to look every inch the noble he was even wrapped in nothing but a blanket. “And yourself? You seem to have escaped unscathed?”

“My pride is wounded,” Haldir admitted with a wry smile. “But nothing else.” He sighed. “Forgive me, this mishap is entirely my doing.”

“It is,” Celegorm agreed, pulling the blanket a little closer around his bare shoulders. “You broke your word, Haldir. You promised to keep me safe.” The Noldo cocked a silver eyebrow at him and pale eyes pinned him to the spot. 

Haldir stiffened, refusing to be intimidated. He opened his mouth to reply when he realized the other elf was grinning at him. He shook his head and scooted closer to the fire. He could finally feel his extremities again, though his bones still ached from the cold. 

“Thank you.”

Haldir looked up from the fire. Celegorm’s grin was gone. His expression was serious. 

“You saved my life,” he said quietly. “Considering who I am, no one would have blamed you if you let me go. “

“It was my fault it was even in danger,” Haldir replied gruffly. “I was not paying attention to the bridge. I would never have simply let you wash up wherever the river took you. You are my responsibility.”

Celegorm looked away, focusing his gaze on the fire. He nodded once.

Haldir frowned but did not press further. Celegorm confused him, one moment teasing, the next grim. He thought it might take a hundred years before he could understand the other’s swift changes in mood. 

“We will stay here until our clothing is dry,” he said finally, breaking the silence that had grown between them. “Then we will journey on. Thank the Valar we are already on the right side of the Celebrant, so we need not cross it again.”

Celegorm held his hands out towards the fire to warm them and his blanket gaped open, drawing Haldir’s gaze briefly, more curious than lascivious. Like everything else about the Noldo's appearance, the body he revealed was fair to look upon. 

It was Haldir’s turn to look away and study the fire.

“Is there anything to eat?” 

Haldir could not help but smile at the hopeful tone in Celegorm’s voice.

“The lembas is gone, but I can boil some grains and there may be some dried fruit,” he said. “Will that do?”

He turned back in time to see Celegorm smile.


	4. Chapter 4

It took most of the day for their clothing to dry, so Haldir decided it was best to simply stay, rest, and leave in the morning. Celeborn said nothing, but looked grateful for the additional opportunity to rest. 

At sunrise, Haldir was awake and warming up leftover grain from the night before. There had been no dried fruit or meat, nor anything to season it with, but they had both been grateful for warm food in the stomachs before falling asleep. Bland food was better than an empty belly. 

Celegorm was stirring, rising to dress just as Haldir was finishing up with their breakfast. When the Noldo settled down next to the fire, Haldir wordlessly handed him the pot of grains and a wooden spoon.

“I meant to ask you last evening, where did you get this?” Celegorm held up the spoon before diving into the warm grains. 

Haldir smiled briefly. “I carved it.” He rose to check on their cloaks. He found them stiff, but dry, and he shook each one out to soften the cloth.  
“It is beautiful,” Celegorm said, pausing to hold the spoon up to the morning light so he could see it better. “The carvings on the handle are lovely. So detailed.”

Haldir shrugged, a touch embarrassed by the praise. “It is a hobby I indulge in when the watches are quiet or when I am at home. Just because something is only a useful tool does not mean it cannot be pleasing to the eye.”

He could feel Celegorm’s eyes on him as he finished tidying the shelter, folding up the blankets they had used and storing them in their oilskins for the next weary traveler who might need them. 

“I never had the gift for creating beauty,” the other elf mused quietly, between bites of food. “A few of my brothers did. Maglor had a voice that would make the heavens weep. Curufin carried our father’s gift of jewel-smithing.” He fell silent, the sound of the wooden spoon scraping the last bit of grain from the edges of the pot seemed overly loud.

Haldir thought back over the stories he had heard of this particular elf, trying to reconcile them with his experiences with him so far. They seemed vastly different, as if Celegorm, son of Feanor, was a different elf entirely. After a few more moments of consideration, he decided that it only made sense. Celegorm had admitted that nearly dying had changed him greatly. 

“My own brothers have their own unique gifts,” Haldir ventured. “Orophin is a master fletcher, and Rumil sings sweeter than any bird I know.”

The corner of Celegorm’s mouth curved upward and he cast Haldir a curious glance. “What about you? Besides carving, can you sing?”

“I cannot sing at all,” Haldir said firmly, though it was not precisely the truth. He could sing, but compared to Rumil, his voice was like that of a croaking frog. 

Celegorm was obviously amused. He regarded Haldir a moment before returning to his breakfast, chasing after the last bite. 

“You are a very serious elf, Haldir. I cannot decide if that is wise or sad.”

Haldir took the empty pot from Celegorm and rinsed it with the water from one of the containers before putting it back to dry with the rest of the stored goods. The spoon he cleaned and tucked back into his tunic pocket. He then kicked dirt over the coals of the fire and poured water over it until it stopped steaming.

“Sad, I think,” Celegorm said finally. He pulled his cloak on and fastened it around his neck. “You should find joy whenever and wherever you can. Believe me. I have known plenty of sorrow.”

Haldir cast him a brief glance before pulling his own cloak across his shoulders.

“You know nothing of my life,” he said finally. “And my happiness is none of your concern.”

He tore a strip of cloth from the bottom of his cloak and approached the other elf.

“Are you ready?”

Celeborn sighed and eyed the strip of cloth before nodding. 

“Do as you must.”

Haldir tied the blindfold around Celegorm’s head, tucking his hair out of the way. 

“The walk will not be difficult from here,” Haldir promised, taking Celegorm’s hand and setting it back on his shoulder.

Celegorm huffed softly. “No more rivers?”

“No more rivers.”

They left the shelter behind them and Haldir led them along the river for a short while, before finally turning away and heading north once more. Their path was easy and they moved swiftly, even with Celegorm blindfolded. 

By late afternoon the path began to climb, growing gradually steeper as they drew closer to their destination. Haldir came to a stop at the summit and turned towards Celegorm.

“Here,” he said quietly. 

His nimble fingers made short work of the knot holding the other elf’s blindfold in place. He stepped back, watching Celegorm’s expression as he took in the view below them.

“Here is Caras Galadhon, the heart of Lothlorien and the home of my Lord Celeborn and my Lady Galadriel.”

Celegorm’s eyes widened as he took in the hill crowned with the tallest Mallorn trees, each tree topped with wide platforms and the graceful arches of buildings. Fairy lights twinkled brightly among the branches, marking the pathways between the trunks and bows. 

Haldir saw him close his eyes and draw a deep breath. 

“I have not seen anything so beautiful in an age.” He turned his head to look at Haldir. “Not since the caves of Menegroth and Nargothrond.” He turned back to gaze across at the city. “Do you think they will let me stay?” The last was spoken softly.

Hesitantly, Haldir placed a hand on Celegorm’s shoulder.

“There is only one way to find out.”

They were met at the entrance of the city by the commander of the city guard and a small detail of guards. Haldir bowed in greeting.

“Orthelor.”

“Welcome home, Captain,” Orthelor greeted him politely. The other elf’s gaze shifted from Haldir to Celegorm. “I am to take you both to our Lord and Lady without delay.”

Haldir frowned.

“We have been traveling for the past two days and there was an accident crossing the Celebrant. Both of us could use a meal and some rest. Not to mention a change of clothes.”

Orthelor shook his head, his expression carefully neutral, but his eyes held a touch of sympathy.

“I am afraid that will have to wait, Captain. My apologies. Will you both follow me?”

There was little to be done except to agree; obedience to duty was ingrained in Haldir and neither of them would suffer any lasting harm by prolonging their meal and rest a little longer.

With a quick glance at Celegorm, Haldir nodded, and fell in behind Orthelor. Celegorm walked beside him. The two city guards remained behind at the gate. 

Haldir watched Celegorm surreptitiously as they walked through the city. The Noldo did not hide his curiosity, glancing around at the greenery, the gardens, the elegant wooden stairs that led up into the trees. He made no attempt to hide his expression of longing and deep sorrow. Despite knowing the other elf’s history, Haldir could not help but feel a touch of sympathy for him.

The staircase that led up to the talan where Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel would greet visitors was grand, wide, and intricately carved with vines and leaves. Haldir saw Celegorm place his hand on the railing, his long fingers trailing over the carvings as they climbed.

Orthelor had them wait once they reached the top of the stairs while he went to let the Lord and Lady know they had arrived. 

Haldir watched Celegorm. The other elf paced along the edge of the stairs, his hands folded behind his back. His pale gaze continuously flicked over to the second set of stairs that Orthelor had followed to the closed wooden door at the top. It was on the tip of Haldir’s tongue to ask him if he were all right, when the door opened and Orthelor stepped through. 

The Captain of the city watch gave Haldir a nod as he passed them but ignored Celegorm. Haldir heard the door open again and he turned, bowing respectfully as his Lord and Lady descended the stairs to meet them. 

Galadriel’s gaze passed over him briefly and came to rest on Celegrom.

“What news of the north, Haldir?” Celeborn asked. He came to a stop beside Galadriel. “Anything to report?”

“Orcs from Moria dared to press our defenses but we were able to rout them. None escaped,” Haldir answered. He glanced at Celegorm. “Pelilas and Davron had been captured. We were able to recover them, thanks to this one’s assistance. We lost three wardens total. It could have been worse.”

Celeborn nodded gravely. “I am sorrowed to hear of the loss of our wardens, yet I am grateful that both Davron and Pelilas were not harmed.” He looked at Celegorm and inclined his head gravely. “The assistance you rendered our wardens is appreciated.”

Celegorm nodded once but his eyes were on Galadriel, as if he could not tear his gaze away. Her own gaze had not wavered. 

“How is it you are still alive, cousin?” Galadriel said finally. She took a step towards him and stopped. “It was thought you died at Dior’s hand with Curufinwë.”

“Artanis,” Celegorm said softly, seemingly at a loss for how to answer. 

His face was full of such raw emotion that Haldir shifted uncomfortably and looked away. He did not feel right witnessing this, yet neither Lord nor Lady had dismissed him. 

“How is it you are here? Why have you come?” 

Keeping his gaze on the tips of his boots, Haldir listened as Celegorm related the same story he’d already shared with Haldir: his near death at the hands of Dior, of abandoning his oath, his sword, and his name. 

“For years I lived alone,” Celegorm’s voice was soft yet raw with emotion. 

Haldir lifted his head, turning to look at the Noldo who stood before Galadriel with his head bowed humbly. This part of his tale he had not heard yet. 

“I did not deserve the peace or security of living with my own kin,” he continued. “Not after...not after all that had been done. I had been greedy. Arrogant. Ambitious to a fault, and when I failed to fulfill my oath, there was no place in Arda that would shelter me.”

“Rightfully so,” Celeborn said coldly, his posture stiff with disapproval. “Yet here you stand before us. Are you asking for aid and succor from your cousin?”

Galadriel reached out, laying her hand gently on her husband’s arm. His expression softened and he fell silent. 

Celegorm lifted his head and nodded at them both.

“I am,” he said. “For the years I spent alone and without home or hearth were not spent idly. I hunted the servants of Morgoth. Any tale that reached me I followed, seeking the destruction of the dark Lord’s minions.” He stopped and took a deep breath, bowing his head once more. “It does not erase my sins, but I would atone for them in any manner I can.”

“You do these deeds as a penance for your crimes,” Galdirel said softly. “Yet you know there can be no forgiveness.”

Celegorm swallowed and nodded. “Not until I face my judgement.”

“Then why are you here?” Celeborn demanded. “Do you think either my Lady or myself can grant you the forgiveness you seek?” His expression had darkened once more. “Do not think the years have softened the cruelty and unjustness of your acts. They have not.”

Haldir had never before seen his Lord so unforgiving, so full of anger. Even the touch of Galadriel’s hand upon him no longer calmed his temper.

Celegorm shook his head.

“I came for another reason. I would never dare ask for forgiveness from her, or from you,” he replied. His face was calm, stoic even. Only his eyes betrayed him, gleaming with sudden fear.

Galadriel pinned him with a knowing glance.

“Something hunts you,” she said softly. “It shadows your every step and gives you no rest.”

Celegorm nodded. “Not until I crossed the borders of your realm,” he replied. “For it could not cross the enchantments laid there.” His hand drifted to his sword and curved around the pommel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. “I do not know what it is that hunts me, and I cannot fight it.”

“Nor have you faced it,” Galadriel said. Her voice was stern, but her expression was one of pity. 

“I have not,” Celegorm replied. “I dared not.”

“You cannot stay here.” Celeborn’s lips were thin, his jaw tight. “I will not have a kinslayer such as yourself dwelling in the borders of our lands.”

Haldir started, turning to look at his Lord. He had never heard such cold fury in his voice. He saw Galdriel lift her hand to touch his arm once more, only for her to drop it uselessly to her side. She looked at Celegorm and shook her head. 

“One night you may take your rest here in the safety of the city, but by dawn you must travel once more.”

“Cousin,” Celegorm protested, though there was little heat behind it, as if he was not surprised by their words. 

“I am sorry, Turcafinwë,” Galadriel replied. “But my Lord is right. You cannot stay.”

She took the last few steps down to the level where Celegorm stood and placed her hand upon his brow.

“Foolish with pride and arrogant beyond measure,” she said softly, almost tenderly. “Your crimes are great and we cannot pardon them.” Her hand cupped his cheek as she regarded him steadily. “The thing that hunts you is your own guilt, cousin. Your sins made manifest. It will not leave nor give you rest until you face it fully.”

Haldir sucked in his breath quietly and ducked his head to hide his horror and pity. 

“Tomorrow at dawn you shall leave this city for our borders. East, south, or west, I care not where you go, so long as you are gone,” Celeborn said with quiet fury. “Go and face your guilt, if you can, and think of the deaths of those who were innocent in the scheming of you and your brothers. Think on my young cousins, Thingol’s heirs, who were abandoned in the woods to die.”

Celeborn turned his gaze finally to Haldir.

“Take him whichever direction he choses,” he ordered. “See it done, Galadhrim.”

Haldir bowed low and watched his Lord turn and depart up the stairs, disappearing through the doorway at the top. He turned, realizing that Galadriel remained, and lowered his gaze respectfully, but not before he caught sight of the tears on Celegorm’s face. 

“I am sorry, Artanis,” Celegorm whispered. “He is right. I do not deserve to be sheltered, certainly not by you both. Not after…” He fell silent and bowed his head. 

“No,” Galadriel said softly, withdrawing her hand from his cheek. “And you cannot hide from what hunts you for long. Even here, it seeks a way to find you, and I will not have it come any further into these lands than it already has.”

Celegorm nodded. “I am weary of running,” he said. “But I shall respect your wishes and leave at dawn tomorrow.”

Galadriel nodded as well and turned to ascend the steps once more, pausing at the top step to look back at Celegorm.

“Only when you face your guilt will you be able to stop running.”

She gave a brief nod of acknowledgement at Haldir’s bow of farewell and followed her husband's footsteps, leaving Haldir and Celegorm standing alone at the base of the steps.


End file.
